


We Belong to the Light

by stellacadente



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Sex, F/M, Ill Advised Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacadente/pseuds/stellacadente
Summary: Malavai Quinn and his estranged wife, Xhareen, are forced to work together after three years of a bitter separation, when Quinn's sister Kayda is kidnapped. Can they overcome their anger long enough to save her, and themselves?
Relationships: Malavai Quinn/Female Sith Warrior
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Anagapesis

**Author's Note:**

> There's going to be one rough, angry sex scene that might be triggering but doesn't really touch on dub-con territory. Just warning out of a preponderance of caution, and chapter heading will be noted.

_Anagapesis - The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did._

Jaesa entered Xhareen’s study, still dripping from the rain outside. “I know you know he’s here again. I know you can still sense him,” she said.

“I don’t know who or what you mean, Lord Willsaam,” Xhareen replied, not turning her back from the door as she addressed her second in command. Jaesa was now a full Sith, no longer anyone’s apprentice. She was returning from the Sanctum, where she was considered a valuable adviser to the Dark Council.

“Bantha shit,” Jaesa said, laughing. “Quinn’s flagship just returned from the Khar Delba system. You can’t avoid him forever.”

But she had. For three years. It only felt like forever.

It had been three years and then some since she dropped him off at the Kaas City spaceport, broken and battered after his betrayal, quietly but officially dismissed from Sith service. They’d never bothered to annul their marriage, but they lived completely apart.

Xhareen remained attached to the Dark Council as the Emperor’s Wrath. After the catastrophe on Ziost, there had been no trace of the former Sith emperor, Vitiate. As far as the people of the Empire and Republic were concerned, he was dead. But more than a few Sith and Jedi leaders knew differently. They waited in fear for his inevitable return.

His devotees, the Hand and a few renegade Imperial Guard, had disappeared after Yavin and Xhareen figured Darth Marr kept her close just in case whatever plots and ploys they were working on came to light. And of course, she was the strongest foil they had in case Vitiate made good on his threat to devour the galaxy.

A brief spate of violence followed the destruction and many feared the costly, protracted war would resume with full fury. Lt. Col. Malavai Quinn, her husband, had made a name of his own winning battles with the fewest casualties and clever strategic and tactical plays that left the Republic in disarray.

Marr, perhaps trying to prompt a reconciliation to keep the Wrath focused on domestic matters, had promoted Quinn rapidly. The acquisition of adegan crystals and stealth technology quickly brought the Republic to heel, and the Treaty of Ziost, signed in the space station above the dead planet, ushered in a new phase of frazzled peace.

Quinn petitioned for a sector posting in the Outer Rim, but was denied. There was talk he was in line to head the Imperial Military Academy after the end of the current academic year, which would keep him on the home world permanently. Again, part of Darth Marr's marital machinations, Xhareen suspected.

Quinn made occasional trips to Xhareen’s stronghold on the outskirts of Kaas City to keep up appearances. She would leave via secret tunnels so that he could have the place to himself. If she could not, she would remain ensconced in her rooms on the upper floor, while Quinn kept a small enclave in the basement. They communicated through her ship's droid, now her steward, if necessary.

She had not even seen him in person in almost half a year, and even that was just a glance in his direction at an official Imperial function. Maybe there were two glances, as his hair had started to silver and it only added to his attractiveness, and her aching pain.

“If he means to visit, he will contact Toovee. He could very well just be on the planet for military business. I am not going to go chasing him down. We are too far past that.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it, Master.” Jaesa had become as good at verbal sparring as she was with a lightsaber.

Xhareen wished she could bring herself to be as optimistic as her friend and only confidante. Vette had grown impatient with Xhareen's inability to fix things with Quinn, and returned to her roguish ways. She hadn't seen her in at least a year, and their interaction then was frosty at best. Pierce returned to military intelligence. Broonmark was ever present, but not the best conversationalist.

Quinn, of course, had chosen loyalty to Baras’s failed version of the Empire over her and he could not be forgiven.

But he could not be forgotten, either. Xhareen let her still-raw rage flow over her, igniting the air around her and turning it red with her fury.

“If you didn’t still have feelings for him, Xhareen, he wouldn’t enrage you. There are plenty of loveless marriages on Dromund Kaas. Yours is not one of them.”

“Irrelevant. Whatever I’m feeling, it’s not the love I want or need.”

Her rage abated but she said no more. Jaesa let herself out of the study.

The rain kept pouring down.

===***===

Lt. Col. Malavai Quinn stepped out of the steel gray building into a light rain under a steel gray sky. His mission inside Imperial Military Headquarters had been a failure. He’d have no choice now but to go to the one person he knew did not want to see him. But maybe, just maybe, she would do it because this wasn’t really a favor for him.

His old friend, Col. Ovech, had reiterated his offer of a command under him in the Fifth Army even before Quinn could say hello.

“That’s not why I’m here today, sir. It’s a personal matter I wish to discuss…”

“Oh, your other offer? You going to take that one instead?” The man truly was relentless, and it wasn’t making it any easier for Quinn to muster up the courage to call in a favor, his real reason for being here.

“Colonel, I haven’t decided yet, and that’s not why I’m here anyway.”

“Come on, Quinn, while we’re here, no titles, okay? I'm getting ready for a life after the military, after all.”

“Then, Mazel, I am here to ask a favor. Beg if I have to. I need a special ops squad for a rescue mission and I needed it yesterday.”

“Quinn, you know we’re strapped here, with flare-ups all over the galaxy. I’d do it personally if I weren’t getting old. What’s the emergency? Why couldn’t you go through regular channels?”

“It’s my sister. She’s been kidnapped and if I go through channels, the kidnappers might find out and kill her.”

Quinn knew if he went through channels, they'd say no. He was hoping Ovech's pending retirement would bring out the old "regulations be damned" officer he'd served with so many years ago.

He laid out what little evidence he had. She disappeared from her clinic on Nar Shaddaa. A trash droid with a surveillance camera caught the abduction. A patient's genetic test suggested an unknown illness and a Darvannis homeworld, although it couldn't be proved that had anything to do with her abductors.

All he needed was a small strike force, preferably with extraction experience, to find her and bring her home.

“Balls, Quinn. You know things between the Empire and Darvannis are shaky at the moment. The Republic is vying for control of the manufacturing oases, the Hutts have their slime all over everything and the Empire's pull with the local politicians and warlords is weakening by the day. I can't allow even an unauthorized mission that involves regular military personnel."

Quinn took a deep breath and started to object, to push back with arguments he'd rehearsed the entire trip here, but he knew it would be useless. If Ovech couldn't see a way around the harsh realities of the New Cold War, no amount of reason would do the trick, either.

They exchanged a few more mindless pleasantries and Quinn begged his leave. There was one last place to turn.

As he made his way across the plaza, the storm gathered strength and pelted the unfortunates caught outside with large, merciless drops.

Quinn put his hat on even though his hair was now wet. She always liked the hat. Maybe that would work in his favor. He found a taxi that would take him to the eastern outskirts, where her estate was. Where _their_ estate was.

 _She’d set it up to be our home_ , he recalled with a twinge of regret.

The taxi stop was only a half kilometer from her property. He’d have to walk that last bit, and would show up looking like a drowned womp rat on her doorstep.

But he reminded himself this was for Kayda, not for himself. He pulled his brim down slightly to fend off the relentless wet and headed to beg help from the person who hated him the most in all the galaxy.

His wife. 


	2. Survival

_Two days earlier: Block Aurek, Correllian Sector, Nar Shaddaa_

Yalzen grabbed the half loaf of bread and hopped out of the refuse bin, stuffed it in his shirt and scampered across the alleyway. He still could not believe these people threw out so much good food. In an hour, he'd collected more discarded food than he'd normally get in a week back home. He knew he shouldn't eat so much, but this loaf didn't even have any of those bitter blue spots on it he assumed were mold, and he just had to take another bite.

Bread never got moldy back home. It didn't last long enough. Yana sometimes grew mold on test pieces, but it was always white and powdery like the sand where the lake used to be. This bread tasted good, after he tore off the dried bits along the edge and threw them at the pointy-nosed vermin staring at him from underneath the bin. This, on top of the meat pie scraps he'd found in the last bin and the damaged but mostly good apple the nice man in the blue uniform had given him this morning.

He knew he was supposed to be watching the clinic. He was supposed to pick out a target and report back to Ragan and Kazmow. He'd been watching. He only started foraging when he smelled the food and realized he wouldn't have to fight anyone for the privilege of scrounging for it. He hadn't missed anyone, he was pretty sure, and besides, he hadn't seen the right one anyway. Ragan and Kazmow wouldn't know any better.

He volunteered to be their shill on this mission. Although he was 13, years of famine and illness had stunted his growth, so he looked no older than 8. Still, he was big for his age among his peers. He'd been lucky enough last year to be taken in by Yana, the village healer, when his mother took ill. Yana normally had more food than most of the villagers and refugees in their sector of Darvannis, because she shared most of it with her patients and with him, her official aid and helper.

But he told the raiders planning this mission he was the perfect one. That he could pick out the best target because he knew what a good healer should look like.

"We ain't lookin for a healer, boy. We need a doctor. A real medical doctor. Republic or Imperial, we don't care." Ragan had said that. Yalzen remembered. A real medical doctor. But he knew he would know who was best. All he had to do was pick someone out, then the two men would come and get them. They'd sneak into the hold of the next ship headed back home, and their real medical doctor would save the sick villagers.

All Yalzen had to do was get an employee’s attention, draw them in close on some pretense, and then signal the men, who were waiting around the corner. He decided he'd pretend to be sick, go inside the clinic to maybe just get some real food and a nap on a real bed. Then, he’d click the button they'd given him from the comm device they pilfered on the transport in.

Except he was starting to realize he might not have to fake being sick. His left side hurt and his head was sweaty. Maybe that bread wasn't so fresh after all. Maybe he had the sickness that had devasted his village, maybe he'd had it all along, and now he was going to die.

Well, at least he would die trying to save people. Maybe this doctor would be able to finally save his mother. Maybe Yana wouldn't get sick anymore, either.

Yalzen stumbled out from behind the big trash container. Three adults could build a house inside one of these, he thought. And this was the poor sector of Nar Shaddaa, this city that was a planet that was an entire city. His head hurt thinking about it, and kept hurting even when he stopped.

He fell in the middle of the street in front of the clinic door. Nobody seemed to have seen him. But just then, he felt warm, smooth hands on his arms, turning him over. He resisted long enough to vomit onto the street. Didn't want to get the doctor dirty and mad at him.

At least, he hoped this pretty, tall human woman with the light brown hair and sharp cheekbones was a doctor. She was telling people what to do, except he couldn't really understand what she was saying.

He clicked the button in his pocket. It wasn’t the plan, but Ragan and Kazmow would know what to do.

~~~~~

Dr. Kayda Quinn rushed with the young boy in her arms into the Corellian clinic she had just walked out of. She'd been off bartering for more supplies and came back to drop them off before boarding the next ship back to Dromund Kaas. She missed her wife, Esmiala, their son, Bradlen, and the rest of her family.

Lord Xhareen helped keep this and one other refugee clinic on the far side of the Corellian sector stocked with the basics, but that often entailed trading one commodity for another. Though she’d made it clear to the Quinns that she and Malavai were not on speaking terms, she intended to remain a part of the family. That she hadn’t divorced him made that clear.

"I'll just consider it your bonus pay, Kayda,” Xhareen would tell her while making credit transfers. “I won't let you spend all your salary trying to save every sick person in the galaxy. Besides, one day, my ship might need new engines and then where would I be?"

Xhareen always laughed when she said this, often bitterly, but Kayda didn't get the joke. Probably an inside joke, or a social gaffe committed by her fool of a younger brother.

The Fool who'd somehow betrayed this powerful, beautiful Sith woman because he was loyal to the wrong things at the worst times. But Kayda couldn't think about him right now. She was determined to at least save this one boy, the rest of the galaxy and its idiots be damned.

~~~~~

Two sun-ravaged men, both the color and texture of weathered wood, watched as the woman carried the boy into the front door. "Screwed it up, he did. I told you, Ragan. Now what will we do?"

"Just shut up and wait, Kazmow. I don't think the boy was faking it. But he clearly wants us to take this woman, and so we will."

~~~~~

_Two days later, Dromund Kaas_

Quinn debarked from the shuttle and walked toward Xhareen’s estate house. She had relegated him to quarters in the basement as part of the “I won’t take your head for what you’ve done” agreement. He had a separate entrance, and had not since gone above to the main floor or the second floor where their suite of rooms had been.

Still, she forced him to make arrangements through Toovee whenever he intended to be at the house. Almost every time he was, she left for an apartment in the city core. Except for those times her duties as Wrath took her off world.

In the beginning, he kept track of her – where she was at all times when they were both serving on Ilum, the time she spent on Makeb and other travels – but no longer. It hurt too much, reminded him too much of why she hated him so vigorously, why she kept him at the end of a long, painful leash.

But there was no time now for her rules. He had not contacted Toovee. He was not going to enter through the basement. Dripping wet, his hair flattened except for that rebel patch on his left side that she had fondled so happily when they were together, he rang the bell at the front entryway instead.

Toovee answered as expected and let him in with no more than a “Greetings, Master Quinn,” but Quinn nearly jumped back when he saw Xhareen there in the foyer, in her full Sith robes, her gold & blue crest shining in the dim light. Broonmark, her faithful Talz companion, stood behind her.

“Colonel, we can talk in the drawing room,” she said, turning and pointing the ways as if he didn’t know where his own drawing room was. Although he had heard through Vette, via Jaesa, that Xhareen had sealed up their former bedroom suite and was now sleeping in the small room across the hall – the room they had planned to use as a nursery. So she could have redone the main floor rooms, too.

But she had not. She led him into the room he had decorated himself. A little emptier, as she had sent his favorite chair down to his quarters. He had to admit, the replacement was more stylish and comfortable. Even with furniture, she mocked him. And he had only himself to blame.

She sat carefully, arranging her robes in two deft and graceful moves, then folded her hands in her lap as if to signal his audience could now begin. Broonmark took up his position behind the chair. He hadn’t said a word to Quinn since the incident, which Quinn took as a good sign – better that than an electrostaff to his spine for betraying Broonmark’s adopted clan leader.

“Jaesa saw you earlier today at High Command. What brings you to the house without arrangements, Quinn? I hope it’s something important.”

 _Oh, my love. I have wanted to face you and talk for more than three years_ , he thought, as bile mixed with shame and anger rose into his throat. _It is almost too much for me to bear that this is why I finally drew up the courage to do it without asking permission._

“It is, I’m afraid,” he said, as calmly as he could. “It’s Kayda. She’s been kidnapped.”

She nearly sprang forward out of her chair, perching on the edge as she gasped. “What? Who? When …”

“Two days ago. I am not sure by whom. So far, no ransom demands have been received.”

“OK, you went to HQ to arrange a rescue operation? Is there anything I can do or provide? I will personally shred whomever did this piece by piece if you but ask,” she said, her chest heaving as a faint glow of red surrounded her.

Quinn dropped his eyes to the floor. His inability to convince even a friendly Imperial contact was his own failure. “I am afraid I could not get any official assistance. That’s why I’m here. Xhareen, I know how you feel about me, but I am desperate. I have no problem begging for your help to save her.”

She sat back in her chair as the red glow subsided. She paused, a small sigh catching in her breath.

“You don’t have to beg. No matter what happened between us, I still consider Kayda my sister, too. Whatever you need, I will make it happen. For her.”

He couldn’t help himself, he had to look at her. She was as resplendent as she was beautiful, her hair still short, her visor now a sleek, single piece of durasteel attached at the implants at her temples. How he used to love massaging her aching temples for her! As far as he knew, no one else was doing that for her now – at least the omnipresent gossip machine of Kaas City was silent on that front.

Maybe she was staying celibate to spite him, too. He was returning that favor, though more from his sense of duty, and the fact that he still loved her. He never even thought about anyone else in that way – work and his shame made it almost easy.

No, the bitterness had to be put aside, at least until Kayda was home, safe. Esmi had borne the news bravely, convinced Kayda would keep herself alive until Malavai could bring her home. Though he hadn’t told Esmi or his mother that the military had refused to help. Nor would he. There was no need.

“We need to get the crew back for this. When we were all together, we accomplished great things,” he said, something she could not deny.

She smiled for the first time. Indeed, it had been so long since he had seen her smile, he nearly missed her remark.

“Does that include Brother Pierce?”

Quinn had to admit, she was the only one who could ever tease him successfully. With others, he either missed the finer points, or the remarks stung and he ignored them. Though by now, he had fully accepted that Pierce was legally his brother-in-law.

Even though the two men would never be considered friends, they had learned how to tolerate one another at family gatherings. Besides, Quinn absolutely adored Esmiala – and frequently dished out his own teasing at his sister about her dear wife’s inexhaustible supply of patience. 

He only hoped he could see her again to have another shot at getting on her nerves just a bit.

“I’m sure you’ve been informed that Pierce and I are quite civil these days,” he said, allowing himself a small smirk.

Xhareen ignored it. Whatever momentary lightness there might have been between them, it was gone now.

“Should I call Jaesa back? She left this morning, though I’m not sure to where,” Xhareen said.

Quinn knew exactly where Jaesa was going, and it was damned convenient. She was headed to meet up with her fiancé on Nar Shaddaa, and he knew exactly why she didn’t tell Xhareen where she was going.

Because Vette was on Nar Shaddaa. She had been the first one Quinn contacted when he heard from the clinic staff what happened to Kayda. Vette had volunteered before he could even ask to gather whatever data and surveillance footage she could beg, borrow or steal.

After the incident – or Quinncident, as Vette called it – Quinn heard nothing from his former crewmates for months. He figured Vette would be the angriest at him, and the most protective of Xhareen. And he was right.

But as time dragged on, Vette grew disgusted with how Xhareen locked Quinn out of her life while keeping him entangled in her Sith career. She begged Xhareen to at least talk to him. She contacted Quinn to say she’d arranged a sitdown between the estranged couple and could he at least apologize? He told Vette he most certainly would, even if Xhareen didn’t want him back. He wasn’t even looking to explain why he did what he did, just to admit he was wrong and that she deserved better than him.

When the day came, Xhareen was a no-show. After what he imagined was an epic shouting fit, Vette decamped from the Dromund Kaas stronghold. These days, she usually bunked on a ship she’d bought for herself with the proceeds of a top secret data haul she’d done for Darth Marr -- when she wasn’t on Nar Shaddaa or Ryloth. And she made it clear: Xhareen was no longer welcome in her life until she “fixed things” with Quinn.

Naturally, he felt horrible about separating the two friends. He tried to convince Vette that he wasn’t worth losing a friend over, but Vette just said, “I’m the captain of Team Quinn and you’d better get used to it, Sub-Captain Tightpants.”

Within a few weeks, Jaesa started speaking to Quinn again, too. He assumed Vette had made membership on “Team Quinn” a condition of her accepting Jaesa’s marriage proposal. It was comforting that Jaesa was able to remain on good terms with Xhareen while also being able to maintain a friendly relationship with him.

He wasn’t sure how much of this Xhareen was aware of, so he simply said, “I can contact her if you wish.”

Xhareen nodded. “Thank you,” is all she said as she rose from the chair. Quinn took that as a sign the audience was over.

He would go now to his quarters downstairs and gather what he needed for the mission. He knew that his Imperial uniform would be more of a hindrance than a help, so he began to mentally parse out the few civilian outfits he had and whatever other gear he’d stowed here that might be useful. Anything else would have to be fabricated or picked up along the way.

“Since I’m sure you’re planning what you need to load out,” Xhareen said, interrupting his thoughts, “I will see to having my ship prepped. It normally takes an hour, but I’ll make sure it’s done in half that time. Pierce is on Ziost but I’ll have him meet us …”

“On Nar Shaddaa,” Quinn said. “Last place we know Kayda was.”

“Nar Shaddaa it is, then,” Xhareen said as she made her way to the door.

“Thank you, sincerely, my lov … my lord,” he said, hoping she didn’t hear his slip but knowing better.

“Let’s just make sure we get her back, Colonel. You can thank me then.”

And she was gone.

As soon as Quinn felt the air rush back into his lungs, he made his way down the central staircase and toward his quarters. Even a half hour was going to seem like an eternity.


End file.
